


Old Ghosts

by Guardian_of_Hope



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blind Character, Canon Character Deaths Mentioned, Force artifact, Found Family, Gen, Old Grief, Time Travel, old trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: While hunting for supplies for the Rebellion, Kanan runs into some old ghosts.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 77





	1. The Device

**Author's Note:**

> I keep trying to picture how a meeting between Kanan Jarrus and Depa Billaba would go, and today I found some inspiration for it, so now you get to enjoy it too.

Kanan was going to have _words_ with Garazeb Orrelios about the proper time to accept a comm call from Kallus.

Mostly involving how the proper time was _not_ in the middle of an abandoned outpost from the Clone Wars while searching for supplies for the Rebels.

It would probably involve some of those Mando curse words he had assured Master Depa he had not listened to.

Biting his lip to keep from speaking out loud, Kanan pushed on a door that had been left almost closed, hoping for something useful inside. As he pulled, he heard the soft sound of Chopper’s wheels on the metal base flooring.

“Almost open,” he told the droid absently before giving another firm pull.

The door shifted again and Chopper gave a soft victory beep before brushing past him to scan the interior of the room. Kanan gave the door another yank, which managed to unstick the door and it slid open so fast that Kanan went sprawling on his back. He sat there for a moment, taking a few calming breaths. There were definitely going to be _words._ Then, as Chopper spoke up in a soft, worried tone, he stood up.

“I’m fine, Chop.” Kanan reached out, feeling the droid brush underneath his fingers in a shared moment of reassurance. “Now show me what you found.”

Chopper’s pincer arm settled against his palm and Kanan gripped it, allowing himself to be led into the room and over to what his questing fingers identified as a workbench. Sitting on top of it was a smooth sided box.

“What are you?” Kanan murmured as he prodded it with questing fingers and the Force.

Whatever was inside, there was an odd muffled feeling to it, as if it were blocking his sense.

Chopper grumbled at him.

“The Jedi’s emblem?” Kanan said softly as his fingers found the box’s opening mechanism. “I wonder…”

Skillful, clever fingers sorted out the latch and he removed the lid, reaching inside to see what the Jedi had left behind.

It was a large, multi-sided object with engraved lines. It had the odd, oily smooth feel that he associated with the Sith holocron but pulsed in his senses like the Jedi holocron Master Depa had once given him. Kanan ran his fingers over the engraved lines, trying to piece together what they were meant to depict, only for Chopper to whistle loudly in alarm as the object burned hot.

Kanan tried to move away from the object, but his hand would not leave it, as if he’d been glued to it or something. He flailed with his other hand, and hit Chopper, who was now screaming in alarm.

The floor dropped out from under him as his head spun like he was experiencing vertigo. He was pretty sure he hadn’t physically moved, but at the same time, he was spun around, dropped several feet compacted into a tube and then was flung backwards.

It took him a second to realize the last one was true, if only because he crashed into Chopper, who was still crying out in alarm, before ending up on the floor in a painful sprawl.

“Chopper,” Kanan began, but stopped. His hands on the ground were conveying the approach of multiple feet, as his sense exploded with the presence of many people, as if the outpost had suddenly become completely staffed.

At the forefront of that, to him, was a presence he hadn’t sensed in fifteen years.

Kanan shook his head sharply and slammed his shields up. He didn’t need to be distracted again, not like with Master Luminara.

“People are coming,” He told Chopper, “we need to hide.”

With a task before him, Chopper calmed down. His pincher arm hit Kanan’s hand as soon as Kanan stood up and Kanan let the droid lead him through the room. Their path was more divergent than originally, and after kicking a box that Kanan didn’t think had been there before, he became more careful to follow Chopper’s lead.

Which was lead to him being crouched behind some stacked storage crates in a corner, with Chopper between him and the open space.

The door opened just as they got into position and Kanan froze, listening hard.

“If this is a couple of lost shinies,” someone said.

“Shut it CT-1157,” snapped someone else. “We’ve got a report of something happening in this area and we are going to figure it out.”

“Look sharp, the General’s coming.” A third voice said.

Kanan was glad he was already down on his knees and the space was so tight that all he could do was sag against the wall. It had been years since he’d heard those voices, that designation, sensed that presence rapidly approaching.

At the that last thought, Kanan pulled out his lightsaber and straightened up. If someone thought that bringing up the ghosts of his past would create a weakness, they had a lesson to learn. He reached over and tapped out a series of directives to Chopper in the binary-based code they’d developed for these situations, giving the droid his marching orders.

They needed to get out of this room, find Zeb, and get back to the Specters, and it was not going to be easy.


	2. Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Depa meets a stranger and a strange droid.

What had begun as mild concern over a triggered alert became true alarm as Depa entered the base corridor that led to the storerooms and found her men scrambling out of the one room she’d hoped would not be involved in the alert. They were followed by a droid with an armed electro-prod, confirming that there was a problem.

“Sergeant!” She called as she approached.

“It’s a Jedi,” the Sergeant said, “I think.”

Depa hesitated, startled, and then a man appeared in the doorway, lightsaber held up in a defensive position. He wore a shield over his eyes with the Jaig Eyes panted on it and had light brown hair. He was not dressed as a Jedi, and to Depa, he flickered in the Force, as if he were ineptly shielding and scanning the world around him at the same time.

There was nothing Dark about him.

For a long moment, they stood frozen, assessing each other, and Depa tried to figure out who the man was. He was Force sensitive but lacked some of the markers of skill that identified a Jedi Knight, but he was trained, and he carried a lightsaber.

 _He must have been an initiate who didn’t become a Padawan,_ Depa thought.

The rest of her thoughts were derailed by the droid screeching in outrage and charging the troopers between it and the way out, appendages extended and sparking electricity while her men scrambled out of the way. The hate and hostility in the droid’s tone and actions startled her as Depa drew and ignited her lightsaber to defend herself.

“Enough,” she snapped.

Pain surged in the Force, a tangle of grief and fear and traumatic sorrow that left her reeling even as it vanished again and the man made a sound that had the droid stopping and backing up to an almost defensive position beside the man.

“You are surrounded,” Depa persisted.

“You think I’m going to let you take me alive?” The man said finally, lifting his lightsaber slightly into a Form 3 defense.

“There is no reason for you to die,” Depa said quietly, “or for anyone here to die.”

The man scoffed, “You’re good. You almost sound like her.”

 _Her?_ Depa wondered. “My men will escort you to our detention center, where we will ask you a few questions. I suggest you come quietly.”

“You must be new here,” the man said dryly, “didn’t they warn you about the Last Jedi when you got your orders?”

 _Last Jedi?_ Depa wondered were this man had come from. The nearest mental facility was systems away in Mygeeto, how had someone so obviously out of touch with reality gotten to such an uninhabited and isolated system?

Sergeant Axe laughed, “Last Jedi? General, this man has to be crazy."

The droid blatted something out that sounded like an agreement and the man straightened up, “Chopper! Specter Two has rules about that you know.”

The droid responded with a tone that clearly did not convey any apology or contriteness.

“Let’s just get out of here,” the man said with a sigh, “you can take it up with Specter Two yourself.” He pointed his lightsaber straight at Depa, “We’re leaving.”

“But,” one of the trooper said, “you’re outnumbered.”

The man resumed his defensive position as the droid’s appendages extended, “For now.”

Depa moved to catch the man’s blade before he could touch one of her men, dodging the droid’s attempt to target her with a spark projector. The electrical shock from that would be uncomfortable, but less likely to kill than a deranged former Initiate with a lightsaber.

However, as they fought, she found a few things becoming clear and more confusing at the same time. As soon as their sabers connected, his shielding steadied and his sense in the Force expanded with practiced control. His saber skill was solid, he met her moves without faltering and his attacks were sparse but well aimed and timed. It was no lie to say that a time or two she’d scrambled to avoid a too close hit.

The droid, however, was chaos, attacking anyone that got too close.

There was no finality of death in the still bodies in the droid’s wake, but there was far too many with the stillness of unconsciousness. It was a ferocity that she’d only ever seen in the Separatist droid army, but it had a lack of fatality to it that was equally unlikely.

At the same time, her men were thrown by the astromech’s size and maneuverability, so unlike the B-1 and B-2 droids they trained against. It was a staggering realization that if the Separatists ever decided to use astromech spies, they would be blindsided and disadvantaged.

At the arrival of several more squads, no doubt Sergeant Axe had sent for backup, Depa decided that things needed to end now. Who ever this man was, she needed answers and her men needed to be safe. She adjusted her grip on her saber and stepped into the Seventh Form.

Her opponent faltered a moment before he bared his teeth in a snarl and followed, his moves no where near as confident as hers, but he showed some familiarity with the _vapaad_.

There was the popping sound of an EMP grenade just as Depa managed to disarm her opponent. She stepped to the side as the man’s saber went flying and allowed Commander Grey to shoot the man with a stunner.

“General?” Grey asked as he stopped beside her.

“Get our men to the infirmary and take this man to the detention center.” Depa ordered, she looked at the droid, rendered inoperable by the grenade, “and see that the droid is secured as well.”

“Sir?” Grey asked.

“There is more going on here than meets the eye,” Depa said thoughtfully, “until we know more, we will not make enemies out of a possible ally. Use a restraining bolt and secure the droid, but do not further disable it in any way.”

“Yes sir,” Grey said with a salute.


End file.
